


Hamilton Stuff

by pluie



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: AU, Anxiety, College, Hurricane, PTSD, School, Storms, TJeffs got some ISSUES, Why Does This Exist, but not really, claustrophobia and some of these tjeffs ones take place in the same universe, claustrophobia refs kinda, germaphobia, i just torture tjeffs usually, lowkey lams ish in some ham centered chapters, teacher, teacher ham man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-05 07:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17320535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluie/pseuds/pluie
Summary: Putting all my writing in one place. Here!





	1. Info

Hello!

I have a lot of fic. Like... a lot. I'm not proud of a lot of it and actually dislike a bit of it! But! I decided to put it all into one place in case anyone ever wanted to read it :)

So without further ado: here is an almost complete works of all my Hamilton: the Musical related stuff. Apart from another story of mine, Claustrophobia, which has it's own story. 

Bye!


	2. Info

Thomas walked into class with only one minute until the bell instead of his usual four minutes. That was the first thing Alexander noticed was off. Thomas had entered the class, clutching the strap of his laptop bag with white knuckles and sat down, organizing his things. He didn’t wipe his sleeve along the desk to rid it of eraser dust or glance at the seat before sitting, he simply plopped himself down and pulled his things from his bag. Once his notebook and fancy expensive pen were out, he pulled his phone out and began to scroll beneath his desk. Alexander did the same, though with his elbows propped up on the desk.

Thomas couldn’t concentrate. His brain had been in a fog since Tuesday and it was now Friday but later last night and this morning it had been buzzing incessantly. He shook his leg under the table, it was an unconscious nervous habit that he had developed in middle school to try and get rid of his anxious energy. His leg bobbed up and down as he continue to stare blankly at his phone. His hands were shaking. He noticed that Washington had entered the classroom and he clicked the button on his phone and stashed it in his bag. Washington opened the class with his usual spiel and Thomas relaxed as much as he could into his seat. 

With class starting he took vague notes, he made a mental reminder to ask Jemmy for notes, knowing that James was always a reliable source for good information. Throughout the class discussion his mind strayed from the topic they were talking about despite his valiant efforts to pay attention. His mind just couldn’t work correctly, he wasn’t thinking straight. He was too preoccupied with projects and essays that needed to be done midnight, all done, but in need of a final look through and all things relating to his mother: who had actually called Monday night which had probably set off this anxiety train in the first place.

“Thomas, is there anything you’d like to add?” His eyes wide, he glance up.

“Sorry?” Was his immediate response, his Southern politeness taking over, despite his dry throat.

“Do you think there is a role for the government in the economy?” He thought for a second and cleared his throat.

“Um, yes, but the government needs to think about maintaining a stable economy.. Fiscal responsibility.. Is very important in regards to the-the taxes..” He took a breath. It was hard to think. It was hard to breathe. “Government debt can be very unpredictable..” He looked at his hands, holding his pen, they were shaking. More than before. He put the pen down and wrung his hands together. “A-And well developed macroeconomic policies strengthen the government’s credibility which is vital to economic stability which is in turn why it is.. It has a role in the economy.” He rushed the ending and dropped his eyes to the notebook paper in front of him. 

“Very well said Thomas, is there anyone who has a contrasting opinion?” Alexander, for once in his goddamn life, kept quiet. Though he hated to admit it, Thomas had made good points, but he couldn’t shake his concern for Jefferson. He had barely made it through his explanation. Despite his strong dislike for the man, they both respected each other for being so outspoken and prominent figures in class and politics. Alexander sent a sidelong glance at Thomas who was more or less hunched over his desk. Thomas suddenly raised his hand halfway and turned to Washington who was standing next to his desk.

“May I be excused?” His tone was hushed and urgent. Washington’s face flashed concern but steeled over almost immediately. He nodded and waved him towards the door, after Thomas had left Washington sent a knowing glance to James Madison who nodded and trailed after him. Alexander sat there in a mild state of shock. He wanted to chase after him and ask why the fuck he had just barged out of Political Science without so much as a backwards glance with only ten minutes to spare, but stayed seated and tried to reminisce in the fact that he would have more notes than Madison. 

Thomas had not been able to breath and barely choked out his plea to Washington. He tore from the classroom and down the hall into the bathroom where he promptly checked for people in the stalls before locking the door to the bathroom all together. He braced himself against the sink and looked down at the drain, trying to get a breath into his lungs that wasn’t as fluttery as his heart was right now. He nearly jumped out of his skin as someone knocked on the door but relaxed as he heard James call through the door.

 

He moved to unlock it and when James entered he locked it again. Thomas went back to the sink, leaning back against it, maintaining eye contact with James. He grit his teeth, rocking forward from his heels to his toes then back again. He sighed, running a hand down his face, still trying to regain his breath. He closed his eyes, attempting to calm his sporadic breathing. He inhaled through his nose and opened his eyes.

“Can I step near you?” James asked tentatively. “Or should I stay here?”

“Y-You can do whatever you want I think , it’s not my claustrophobia. But be careful, everything's worse now.” He let out a dry laugh. “Fuck, I can’t breathe.” James slowly took a step forward and grabbed Thomas’s hands, which had been tightly intertwined with each other, and guided them down to his side. His foot tapping wildly on the floor sounded too loud in the closed space.

“Breathe in.” He instructed and Thomas listened. “Now, out.” They repeated it a while more until Thomas had a better grip on his breathing. His mind had gotten less foggy, though it still buzzed feverently, he could breath again, but his hands still shook. They always took a while, before and after the fact. The bell rang and Thomas and James evacuated the bathroom, expecting the between-class rush as well as the both of them needing to retrieve their things from the PoliSci classroom before the next period. 

The classroom was almost empty when they both arrived, only Washington and Hamilton, to Jefferson’s extreme distaste, remained. Thomas walked straight to his things and cleaned them up as quickly as he could and stood by the door, waiting for James to finish up. He felt his face heat up as the intense gaze of Hamilton bore into him. Washington and Alexander were still having a conversation, but he knew that Hamilton was starring. James finally finished putting things in his bag and met Thomas by the door. 

“Hey, I need to ask Washington about the notes we missed.” Internally Thomas groaned, but he followed his best friend to the rear of the room anyway. He stood by him silently as they spoke, trying desperately to ignore Hamilton in fear of him berating him with questions. He didn’t know how he would respond. Thankfully, James only had a few questions and they could leave the classroom quickly, though they were followed by Hamilton; who had had to leave because of Washington’s next class. 

Thomas and James walked out onto the courtyard, the both of them not having classes the next period, and sat down. They both copied each other’s notes as well and writing some things that Washington had told them. The both of them a little angry that they had to use the textbook instead of what Washington had said in class. They both finished their notes and eventually decided to just sit out at the picnic tables and talk, and that’s what they did. They could not, however, escape the torturous human that was Alexander Hamilton. He came barging over to their picnic table and starred between the two of them before plopping himself down.

“I have questions but they can wait. Washington told me to share my notes with Madison so that’s what I’m doing.” Thomas rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone and started to scroll through his emails when his phone vibrated, signaling that someone was calling him. It was his mother. His heart jumped to his throat and he slowly stood, telling James he had a call. He walked slowly over to a tree and accepted the call.

“Hello?” He answered, his grip tightening on the phone. His mother was most likely the reason this week had been so hard to begin with, why did she need to call now, right after the tension had been momentarily dispelled. 

“Thomas.” His mother’s voice was light and airy, but full of poison. After his father’s death their relationship had been rocky and from his last year of high school, dreadful. 

“I didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon, you caught me off-guard. I-” She cut him off, but what he said was very true, when his mother spoke with him, it was usually weeks if not months between conversations. 

“Yes, well I’m calling to inform you that I will be visiting you next week.” Thomas’ breath caught but he made sure it wasn’t audible. “Your college has contacted me and told me that you are within the top bracket of students. I had arranged a meeting with your head of school to have lunch and discuss your further plans in relation to your career.” Thomas nodded at first, in disbelief but realizing that she couldn’t hear it spluttered out an acknowledgment. 

This was just like his mother. Requesting special letters of updates on her son, meeting privately with the headmaster of the university, contemplating his future as if it was hers for the taking. He was assured by his mother that he was getting special treatment and that no one else was meeting with the head but this only made him feel worse about the entire situation. He was told, though, by the head of school that his mother’s meetings did not get him any academic standings above his peers, which calmed him immensely.

“I’ll be dropping in on you as well. I do hope you will take me to dinner, Thomas, because that is what gentlemen do with their mothers.” Her tone was infinitely condescending. “I will see you Tuesday, goodbye.” 

“Bye-” He had barely started the word when he heard a slight click and his phone made a noise to inform him that the call had ended. Thomas put his hands against his eyes in defeat, he could feel them shaking again but he wasn’t sure if it was from class or a warning of something to come. He let out an audible sigh and turned back to the picnic table. Alexander was gazing out over the lawn and James was scrawling the notes down.

“Who was it?” James asked absently, not looking up. Thomas waited a moment before answering.

“My mother.” James stopped writing and glanced at Thomas’ face.

“Again? She just called-- what was it? Tuesday?” Thomas gave a slight nod.

“Monday.” James looked at him with concern, knowing that Thomas did not get along with her and knowing that she was a source of a lot of internal turmoil.

“What did she want this time?” Thomas sucked in a breath. 

“She’s coming to visit. Tuesday.” Thomas locked his jaw for a second before continuing. “Doing her usual over-the-top visit. She’ll know where I am everyday at all times so- oh god.” Thomas’ cheeks turned pink with the embarrassment he would feel next week and at the glance that Alexander sent him. 

“What?”

“She’s gonna find out about my.. meeting on Tuesday.” Thomas squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a moment before opening them again.

“Meeting? What- oh. Meeting.” James seemed very confused but soon realized the code he was using in the presence of Hamilton. 

“Yeah, and she’s going to do her rounds like she always does, which won’t help any of this-”

“Would you two stop talking in some code and so quietly? If what you’ve got to say is so secretive you could tell me to leave.” He spat, but James could see the glint of concern in Hamilton’s eyes. Thomas seemed taken aback. “I was going to use these notes as an excuse to pry but it seems as if I’m over here in freaking Fort Knox.” Then, Thomas took a risk.

“Well. What did you want to know?” This obviously threw Alexander for a loop.

“I wanted to know why you left class mostly.” Thomas thought for a second and carefully formulated his reply.

“You’re very perceptive. Why do you think I left? Hell, you probably knew it before I did.” Thomas raised his eyebrows at him. “Well?” Hamilton was quiet and then bit his lip. “Nothing?” 

“Thomas?” James sent him a worried glance but Thomas waved him off.

“I said I was having a meeting next Tuesday? James expressed concern over my phone call? James followed me down the hall? Washington let me leave immediately?” He waited for a response. “Really? I would have thought you’d be better at deducing this. You’re smart, I won’t deny, just really fucking annoying.” 

“Uh-” 

“Time’s up!” Thomas chimed. “You are out of time, to reveal the answer please pay me $5.” Alexander looked at him in disbelief. “What? I’m revealing a personal thing that happens to be a secret that only a handful of people know about.” Then pointing at Hamilton. “You must also vow to never breathe this to another living soul. Kapeesh?” Hamilton rolled his eyes.

“Who even says Kapeesh?” Then slapping a five dollar bill in Thomas’ hand, he said. “I won’t tell anyone or use this against you blah blah blah.” Thomas nodded hesitantly, he hadn’t fully expected Hamilton to continue this far. 

“I was having a panic attack.” He stated firmly, though his heart thudded harder against his chest, knowing now that Hamilton knew one of his biggest secrets. There was silence, and that only made Thomas’ internal monologue chant louder until Alexander spoke.

“Dude, you might think I’m the scum of the earth but I wouldn’t ever use that to tear you down.” James had abandoned his notes altogether at this point and was watching the conversation intently. “I, frankly, know what it’s like to have something like that used against you and it’s not fun.” Then a short pause and an innocently curious smile from the short man. “Can I ask more questions?” 

“Uh, I-I guess.” He cursed himself for the stutter but then remembered that he had sworn not to tell anyone. It was odd being so casual with Alexander, but nice. Their mutual respect also now had a layer of understanding between them. “It’ll cost you though.” Thomas smirked which led James to cock his head even more and Alexander to roll his eyes. 

“How much?” Alexander asked. Thomas again, thought for a second.

“Smaller bills, smaller answers. But, small answers might be enough. Choose wisely.” Alexander let out an exasperated sigh.

“What is this? Some kind of game?” 

“If you want it to be. I'm simply playing my cards to my advantage.” Alexander shook his head sarcastically.

“Fine. Who called you?” He slid a quarter across the table.

“A relative.” James choked back a laugh and returned to the notes. Three more quarters scraped across the wood. “A parent.” 

“If I guess correctly will you tell me?” 

“I guess so.” Now Alexander was quiet.

“Your father?” Thomas shook his head. “Your mother.” Now he nodded stiffly. Alexander, as Thomas had said earlier, noticed this.

“Does she bother you?” asked Alexander. Thomas inhaled deeply. 

“Pay up.” Two more quarters. “Yes.” 

“Aw, that's all you're gonna say? Why does she bother you?” This time he had five dollars ready. 

“We aren't on the best of terms. We actually haven't ever been on the best terms, but worse after my father died and the worst since high school ended.” He said. “She’s..overbearing and very...critical.” Alexander nodded.

“What's the meeting on Tuesday?” A dollar. Thomas was beginning to regret their “game” but relished in the fact that he was earning money. 

“Psychiatrist.” 

“One word for a dollar?” Thomas blew out a harsh breath. 

“It's a check-in appointment, so yes. I've been before.” 

“How long have you been going?” Alexander pushed another dollar towards him. Thomas thought for a second. 

“Since I got out of high school, since I could hide it.” Then added more to himself. “Which obviously worked.” Alexander dug around in his wallet. 

“That's all the cash I carry around.” 

“Nice doing business with you, Hamilton.” 

“$7.50.”


	3. Germ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJeffs is a germaphobe

Thomas did not enjoy the company of sick people. Now, he had gotten used to Jemmy being sick all the time, but that was where his tolerance stopped. He didn't like how they coughed and sneezed and got their germs everywhere and how they were slow and spoke weird because their noses were blocked, he hated every aspect of being sick and avoided it at all costs. He was a bit of a germaphobe though he wouldn't admit it, only in the company of James did he spill his thoughts about it. 

There was a virus going around campus and Thomas was driving himself insane. He thought about not going to his classes but that idea was worse than getting sick because if he was sick he could just sleep at home. But if he was well, he'd just be stuck in his small apartment with his anxious thoughts and they would no doubt awaken his God-forsaken claustrophobia which he did not want to deal with today, tomorrow, or any day for that matter. 

He hated being sick though, for similar reasons. One, he'd be sick and that'd be horrible enough. Two, he'd get behind on schoolwork and being on top of things he still felt panicky on due dates, so he didn't want to go through that mess. Three, no matter how much he denied it, he would undoubtedly freak out in his apartment because when you were sick you couldn't leave and that thought alone would send his leg bouncing furiously on the ground.

Madison had been, of course, one of the first to fall ill. A few days later Burr didn't show up for class and then Adams and the cycle continued. Thomas had been on the edge of his seat when Burr returned to classes still a snuffling mess and not one bit reassured by the fact that the teacher's sentences were littered with sniffing and throat clearing. When the bell rang he had carefully gathered his things and rushed to the bathroom to furiously scrub his hands before heading to lunch. 

It all happened at debate club. He and Hamilton were both president after battling for the position with Burr as Vice President and James as a secretary. They had respectively called a fifteen minute break and the only ones left in the room were Thomas and Alexander, their contract to use the classroom said that both presidents needed to be present in the room at all times. Hamilton was standing by the teacher's desk and the blackboard and Thomas by a student's desk with his bag. Thomas spoke:

"Why are you staring at me?" He asked, shifting his weight from foot the foot. The room was poisoned with sick air.

"You look like you've just watched someone being decapitated." Thomas let out a short laugh.

"I wish I was being decapitated." 

"What?" 

"Nothing." 

There was more silence. Thomas was looking through his bag for a journal he needed to give to Jemmy that were the last meetings minutes, as he hadn't been able to attend because he was sick and Alexander was scrolling through his phone. The only thing breaking the silence was an occasional cough from Hamilton that sent chills down Thomas's spine. He was dealing with the situation alright, he was quite proud of himself, until Hamilton sneezed. Thomas froze. It was short and loud and aggressive and most importantly down his chest, uncovered. It was done in a second but it played in his ears. 

"Bless you." Thomas swallowed thickly, angling his body away from Hamilton. 

"Thank you." Thomas closed his eyes for a moment and continued to look for his notebook and his pen. He found it finally and went up to the teacher's desk to get Jemmy's secretary book. He started filling in the pages, he had gotten done with the beginning of the page stating the date and location when Alexander spoke. 

"What are you doing?" He asked, pushing at his nose. Thomas blinked up at him.

"I'm filling out the secretary paperwork, what do you think I'm doing?" Alexander shrugged. 

"I don't know, you just started hunching over the desk scrawling something down, I didn't know." 

"What else would I be doing? Writing out the teacher's plans? Thanking the teacher for using the room? I'm filling them out because James wasn't here last time and he needs a record of all of the club's happening and-" Alexander sneezed again and Thomas shut his mouth. His stomach twisted, he had covered his mouth with his hand. "A-And so I'm filling it out." He finished as quickly as he could. 

Alexander nodded, sniffing loudly and Thomas wanted to scream. He walked swiftly to his back and pretended to look for something for a while. He curled his toes in his shoes as another cough rung around the room. He walked back over to the notebooks and went to grab his pen. 

"Oh, hey, I need to cross that off." Hamilton grabbed Thomas's pen and crossed off a thing they had debated. "Thanks, here you go." Thomas stared at the pen, then looked up at Alexander. He was silent as he glared in horror at the pen and then back at Hamilton. 

"N-No." He stuttered out. "You can keep it." He stumbled back to the bag and rummaged through the bag looking for another pen and his heart sunk as he couldn't find another pen. Nor pencil nor crayon nor marker. He bit his lip and spun on his heel back to the teacher's desk.   
"W-Would... Do you have another pen?" Alexander looked up from his phone, shrugged and picked up the one that had been Thomas's. 

"Well, this one." He tossed it onto the paper. Thomas sucked in a breath and nodded stiffly. He picked up the pen with the tips of his fingers and walked it over to the sink and with heated cheeks began to wash the pen. He closed his eyes in embarrassment as he scrubbed the pen and his hands. He turned the water off and dried the pen, waiting an extra second before returning to Hamilton. 

"Did you just-" 

"Yes." He said, clicking the pen. 

"Why?" He asked, staring as Thomas resumed writing. 

"I'd think it'd be obvious." He muttered, obviously uncomfortable and shifting from foot to foot. "You're sick, you used my pen." He looked up at Hamilton who's face was blank. He wondered vaguely what was happening before Hamilton sneezed. Right at his face. Thomas stuck his chin up in the air and locked his jaw, refusing to breathe. When Alexander sneezed once again he flinched and made a noise of distress. He stumbled back away from him and walked back to the sink. 

"Ah, sorry." Hamilton said looking around confused and saw him at the sink. He strode over. Thomas still stood there shocked. He let out another long disgruntled noise and pushed the water on with the backs of his hands. "Are–Are you okay?" 

"N-No." He stuck his hands under the water and splashed his face. He vaguely heard the door open. 

"No, guys, meeting adjourned." Alexander said and Thomas heard retreating footsteps as he splashed more water on his face. "Oh, James." Thomas felt James' hand on his back and it slide off. 

"Thomas-" Madison cut himself off. "What happened?" 

"He-He sneezed on my face-" Thomas felt like gagging as he splashed more water and rubbed his face. Hamilton sneezed again into his hand as if to prove the point. 

"Oh." James didn't say anything else. Thomas lifting his hand to get paper towels but hesitated, James reached up and pushed them down. 

"Thanks Jemmy." Hamilton opened his mouth to say something but James sent him a look of 'don't you even question it' and he shut his mouth. After Thomas regained composure he turned to Hamilton and poked his pointer finger at his chest.

"If I get sick because of you Hamilton, I'm going to personally murder you." Hamilton raised his hands in surrender, then reached out and rubbed a hand down Thomas's face with a sly grin. Thomas yelped is despair and leaned back over the sink. 

"Hamilton!" James exclaimed as Alexander laughed. Before Thomas could turn the water on, Hamilton grabbed his shoulders and restrained him from using the sink, turning him to face him. Thomas whimpered as James stared in shock. "Hamilton what are you-" 

"Wait a second." He said calmly as Thomas blinked at him wildly. "What's wrong?" 

"W-What-What do you think is wrong?!" He said struggling to get out of his grip. "You fucking rubbed your disgusting hand down my face and- ohh god." His eyes shifted between either sides of Hamilton's head. "Let me go!" 

"No." 

"Hamilton, you really should-" Madison began.

"Now, why is that so horrible?" Hamilton's voice was still calm as Thomas's face grew ever frantic. 

"Because, you bastard, I'm going to get sick and I'm gonna be stuck in my apartment and I'm gonna get fucking sick because you won't let me wash my face because you rubbed your hand down my face." 

"Thomas." James spoke calmly, catching on to what Hamilton was doing. "Look at me." His eyes flitted to James. "Why do you think that?" He rolled his eyes, still continuing to struggle, though less than before. 

"Be-Because that's how germs work! You of all people should know that!" He stopped and glared at Hamilton. "Let. Me. Go." His voice cracked on the last word. 

"What was your thought process to access this situation?" He ignored Thomas. 

"Listen. I don't know what you're playing at, but just let me go." He began to struggle again. 

"Answer the question, Thomas." James said.

"I don't know why you're on his side-" 

"Answer it." Hamilton said. Thomas bit his lip still continuing to wriggle. 

"You fucking touched me, then I thought: 'oh shit he touched me, gross,' then I thought: 'I'm going to throw up that is disgusting,' and then I thought: 'holy crap I'm going to get sick,' then I thought: 'I need to wash my face because he fucking touched me-" He took a sharp breath and felt his hands begin to shake, his eyes widened. He tried to move more violently than before and locked eyes with James. "James- James my hands-" He took another quick breath and lifted them to show James his quivering hands. James lunged forward and put his arm between Hamilton and Thomas.

"Hamilton, you need to let go now." He said sternly. Hamilton kept his hands on his shoulders. 

"Wait-" 

"No. You need to let go now." Madison's voice sounded almost as panicked as Thomas's. 

"Explain." He said. "Why is it so horrible?"

"Hamilton." Said James threateningly.

"I rubbed my clean hand down your face, Jefferson. That won't make you ill." Thomas continued to struggle.

"I-It doesn't matter! Let me go!" Alexander let his hands go slack and Thomas flung himself to the sink. Thomas scrubbed his face with his hands and the brown paper towels to the point that James had to tell him to: 'stop rubbing, you'll rub it raw'. Thomas finally leaned back from the sink, his face red from irritation and embarrassment and dripping with water droplets. James reached up and pushed the lever on the paper towels down. Thomas ripped a piece off. 

"Now, you." He said hesitantly, pointing a shaky hand at Alexander. "Wash your fucking hands." Alexander stepped forward and put his hands under the still running water and washed his hands. When he was finished, he turned and crossed his arms, leaning against the sink. 

"Why-" He began, Madison flinched and Thomas downcast his eyes. "-is it so horrible?" 

"Alexander, maybe its best you-" James started but Thomas interrupted.

"No. It's fine, Jemmy." He looked up at Alexander. "Germ-" His eyes shot down again and after a moment of silence he moved his jaw back and forth. "Germaphobia." 

"Oh." There was a long silence. "So would it matter if I did this?" He got up quickly and stuck his hand toward Thomas again but kept his distance. Thomas stumbled backward into the desks and James reached up to stop him. 

"Fucking yeah. It really would." He said in a pinched voice, trying to regain his footing after colliding with the desks. Alexander laughed loudly, in a whole-hearted kind of way.

"Okay. I'll take note." He cracked a sly smile, Thomas hesitantly grinned in return as James let out a cautious chuckle. "Sorry. About, uh, earlier. I didn't know why you were so freaked out and I wanted to figure it out." 

"So you decided to torture me?" Jefferson asked, his voice still high. He though for a moment. 

"Yeah, I really am sorry." Alex looked away and James took the opportunity to speak up. 

"Well, Thomas. Maybe, maybe it was good. In a way." Thomas gave him an incredulous look. "Well, you had to deal with it. You couldn't get out of the situation, like usual." 

"Your point is valid but I didn't like it." Thomas bit his lip and Alex walked to the front of the room again.

"If you're up to it, we could do it again, like controlled though." James' voice was quiet. "We should. Didn't you stop the therapy for it?" Thomas shifted his weight.

"Yeah." He mumbled. "I stopped because it got better." 

"You thought it got better? Just like your claustrophobia?" James asked, a twinge of frustration laced into his voice. Thomas licked his lips. 

"Listen. That's personal." His voice was still low. James looked around the room.

"All of its personal Thomas, but you need to face it." Thomas averted his eyes. 

"Okay, fine. Let's do it." Thomas swallowed thickly and trailed after James as he walked to the front of the room. 

"So I get to torture Thomas even more?" James chuckled nervously after he explained everything. Thomas stood behind James and it was one of the few times Alexander had seen him nervous. 

"I-I can say stop whenever, right?" Thomas' voice was wavering slightly and Alexander felt a pang of guilt. James nodded showing a hopeful smile. "Can we start easy?" Another nod. 

"Right, you know Hamilton just washed his hands." A hesitant nod. "Shake his hand." 

"I can do that, I've practiced that one." Thomas went over and shook his hand, though Alexander could feel that his hands were clammy. Thomas pulled his hand away forcefully and rubbed it on his pant leg. James nodded encouragement and stuck his own hand out. Thomas hesitated for the slightest moment before plastering on a bright smile, but as soon as James' hand went slack, Thomas' grin faltered. 

"Do you do that when you talk to important people?" Alexander wondered aloud.

"What?" Thomas turned to look at him, wiping his hands on his pants again, more forcefully than before. 

"Do you do that smile and spiel?" Thomas thought for a moment. 

"Yeah, I guess so. Practicing it makes is easier and less stressful. I don't-" Then is seemed as if someone had slapped Thomas. He realized he was essentially telling his enemy things that threw him off. Sprinkle a few open coughs in an important debate and he might be left struggling for words. "I don't really think about it. Make a good impression." He was aiming to say that he didn't quite like meeting people but he couldn't know that. 

"Do you want to open the door to the supply closet?" James asked, nodding towards the door with his arms crossed. Thomas grimaced. He knew that the door hadn't been cleaning in a while, earlier in the meeting a kid who hadn't been paying much attention had noted the amount of dust on it and that he had to peel a piece of gum off of it. 

"Not really." He walked over to the closet, followed by James and Hamilton. He was circumspect about the handle, especially with the information from earlier. Hamilton felt another prick of compunction watching Thomas inspected the door. 

"You don't have to." James reminded him. Alexander could tell that Jefferson was reluctant to open it. 

"Merde." He muttered, sticking his hand out and turning the handle. Except it didn't turn and he tried again, realizing it was locked. He pulled his hand away, mildly horrified at the extra seconds his hand spent lingering on the door. Thomas turned to the other two of the group, recoiling and Hamilton sneezed into his hand again. "Really? Your hand? After what just happened?" Thomas was running his hand across his pants, much more vigorously than before and James reached over to still his hand. Thomas looked down, almost shocked before blooming pink. 

"Sorry." He muttered, clenching his hand into a fist and holding it with his other hand. 

"It's fine." James said calmly. "Did you realize you were doing it?" Thomas' face turned a darker shade. 

"No." 

"Well, you did a good job." Alexander offered. Thomas looked up and met his eyes with a weak smile. 

"Okay. I'm going to propose something. You don't have to Thomas, don't feel like you have to." Thomas sent a sidewards glance to James. "Shake Alexander's hand." A pause. "And wait to wipe your hand." Thomas did not even try to hide his shocked face. 

"But-" He shot a glance at Hamilton, not forgetting that he had just covered his mouth with his hand when he sneezed. 

"You don't have to." James offered. 

"I know I don't have to but I should." Alexander extended his hand again. Thomas grumbled then put on a smile and took Alexander's hand and shook it forcefully. He slowly removed his hand, keeping his smile. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. 

"What would you do if you were in an important meeting and you had to shake some gross guys hand?" Alexander asked with honest curiosity. 

"Um, probably um, try and deal with it until I freaked out and excuse myself to the bathroom." Thomas admitted, still trying to mask how fast his mind was racing. 

"What if you couldn't leave?" Thomas closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. 

"Uh, I usually have the forethought to bring, like, sanitation, like, wipes. I don't usually bring them to, uh, class but-" He closed his eyes again and blew out a breath. He opened them and took a sharper breath. 

"What if you forgot them?" James leaned against the counter.

"I don't know. Ride it out." Thomas trained his eyes on the ceiling. 

"Ride what out?" Thomas blew out another breath. 

"An anxiety attack?" 

"30 seconds." James earned an exasperated sigh. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah." James said.

"Oh fuck this." Thomas turned away and started to wash his hands again.


	4. Elevator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ahh

Thomas Jefferson was a man with an air of importance. He was quite tall and dressed nicely, however exquisite his fashion tastes, and had coffee imported from Italy in the morning. He had a good job even as a college student, lived in a fancy apartment building that wasn't student accommodation, and had impeccable grades. He had frequent debates with one Alexander Hamilton, good relations with teachers and friends, was physically healthy and owned a fancy ass car. 

He occasionally did nighttime jogs through a city park when he was free and, though he would never admit it, did yoga in his living room with the blinds closed. He wrote articles for a little known news website that brought in a little extra money when he felt like it and was even recognized by a local news station once for posting an article that was 'painfully honest and has eye opening with accounts on modern politics'. He was secretly quite proud. 

He prided himself to arriving early or promptly on time to all occasions whether it simple such as a class or something of more importance, but this morning he wasn't running on schedule and he had a class in thirty minutes and he hadn't gotten out of bed yet. Now, he was partially to blame, he had stayed up very late, well early, but he had been pacing around his apartment with his brain absolutely buzzing. 

He hadn't been sleeping well the past few nights. There hasn't been anything in particular, Hamilton was as infuriating as ever, he had, admittedly, crushed Thomas in an argument and that hadn't exactly helped him sleep. The city lights he could usually block out streamed blindingly through the curtains of his apartment and until around eleven at night he couldn't concentrate on any of his schoolwork. 

So the usual hour at night where he recounted everything that had happened the during the day and week had to be pushed until the wee hours of the morning or didn't happen at all. Which hasn't helped his anxiety. He didn't like to acknowledge the fact that he was feeling more on edge than usual, he knew in the back of his mind that it wasn't just a bad day it was an accumulation of defeat and no sleep and stress for school. 

So Thomas had flung himself out of bed with his eyes wide at 7:30, throwing on the first pair of clothes he found and grabbed a burnt piece of toast. He even forgot his fancy Italian coffee. So there he was, munching on a disgusting piece of toast trying to scrawl out a few post-it note reminders to himself and simultaneously attempting to finish up his assignment for Steuben's early class. 

He almost forgot his laptop bag when rushing out of his apartment and he nearly put on two different shoes. He walked towards the elevators as fast as he could and his stomach dropped as the sign telling him what floor the elevator was on showcased a very high number. He rubbed his hand across his face. No. No elevator, especially today. He tapped his foot impatiently and turned towards the stairwell. He made up his mind and set towards the stairs. 

His legs were burning as he got to the ground floor and he raced to the parking garage. He searched his pockets and his breathing quickened as he didn't find his keys. He bit his lip and began walking as fast as he could towards the university. He gripped his bag tightly in his hands and breathed a sigh of relief when he came upon the building. 

He entered the building and without thinking, went into the elevator and pushed the floor number. He didn't realize what he was doing until the doors had closed and the metal death trap started to move. His breath caught in his throat. Had he really been that stupid? He knew he wasn't in a good place mentally, overly anxious, so why the hell would he make the mistake of getting in an elevator?

He gripped the railing in the elevator, not caring how disgusting it probably was. Germs could wait. The height of the elevator was 7 feet, just under code height, and being 6' 2", it felt tight. With only ten inched between his head and the ceiling, his claustrophobia was having a ball. He took a wheezy breath, and bit his lip. He'd make it into class right on time and he didn't want to walk through the doors all flustered like he had just seen a ghost. 

He closed his eyes and tapped his foot, crossing his arms across his chest, trying to redirect his thoughts. He was thankful that his hands weren't shaking, it took forever for that specifically to go away. He cursed mentally at the elevator, of course he had to not sleep the past few nights. He would have usually been fine, his usually calm demeanor was accustomed to elevators. Even if he was this humming ball of anxiety, he would have alway opted for the stairs but of course he had to follow habit this morning. He shook his head and reopened his eyes to look at the floor count. 

He readjusted his laptop bag and held his breath as the elevator stopped and opened. He stepped out of the elevator and leaned against the wall for a moment, calming his breathing and composing himself. He took a deep breath and walked to Steuben's classroom. He nodded at the teacher and took a seat in his regular spot, even remembering to glare at Hamilton on his way in. Who, to Jefferson's delight, was late also. 

Thomas sat in class, taking notes when appropriate, answering question every so often and handing in his assignment. The class was going well until Hamilton picked a fight with him with only fifteen minutes left to go. Steuben backed off when the pair started yelling and with five minutes left Steuben threw his hands up in defeat and sat at his desk.

The bell rang and the two gathered their things, still throwing sarcasm and hatred across the room in words and glares. Thomas packed his bag still sending daggers and the two followed each other out of the classroom and into the hallway. Thomas readjusted his bag and quickly retaliated when Alexander said something less than nice. He was so furious he didn't realize they two of them had gotten in the elevator. 

"You fucking idiot Jefferson, no one has that opinion! You're so stupid to actually think that." 

Thomas didn't respond. 

"Oh, what, can't thing of a response?" Alexander was being as cocky as ever and Thomas couldn't think of something to say to shut him up. "That's what I thought Jefferson." He spat his name, Thomas wanted to punch him but he restrained himself.

"Oh, shut up Hamilton. They're bad insults as it is." He gripped the railing of the elevator and he could feel his hand slipping because of how clammy they were getting. He glared back at Hamilton. He wanted to get out and wash his hands. 

"What, is that the best you can do?" His thoughts weren't aligning properly and he spat a poorly articulated response.

"No, bastard. How about you fucking shut the hell up you-" His eyes grew wide as there was a loud noise and the elevator creaked to a stop. Hamilton stumbled slightly but quickly regained his standing as Thomas took a sharp breath. 

"Care to continue?" Hamilton had a sly grin. When Thomas hesitated he continued. "What, scared of this elevator situation?" Thomas didn't respond. There was only the noise of Thomas's flurried breathing.

"Shut up." His voice was breathy and uneven, the opposite of angry and intimidating. His hands shook as they gripped the railing. He closed his eyes and locked his jaw. 

"Jefferson, you're insults aren't even insults." Alexander was silent for a moment then narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "Wow, you really are scared." Thomas opened his eyes and glared at him. 

"I'm not-" He took a quick breath. "Scared." Alexander laughed.

"What, are you petrified?" Thomas didn't respond and he laughed again. "Oh, so you are?" 

"God." Thomas breathed, moving to the call button but Hamilton stopped him. "The hell are you doing?" He asked angrily. 

"I'm going to relish in this as long as I can. Thomas Jefferson, unable to respond to insults." 

"I'm fucking claustrophobic you idiot, I can't-" His breath caught in his throat and for the first time Thomas had seen, Alexander's face expressed disbelief and concern. Thomas couldn't breathe.

"Wait, wait, really?" He sounded unbelieving. 

"No, I'm joking. Yes, really." He said through gritted teeth, taking off his laptop bag, putting it on the floor.

"Oh, shit, I'm-I'm sorry." Thomas rolled his eyes, still trying to regain his breath but there was a lump in his throat and he couldn't breath. The lights flickered, the emergency lighting was old. Hamilton jammed his finger on the call button. Nothing happened. Thomas whimpered silently. "Shit." Said Hamilton. He pushed it again. Nothing. "Shit." He repeated. "Uh.." 

"F-Fucking call someone." Hamilton's head whipped to face Thomas, he nodded.

"R-Right." He pat his pockets and sent a terrified glance at Thomas, who had his eyes closed and was clinging the railing with visibly shaking hands. "Uh, do you have your phone." Without saying anything or opening his eyes, he unlatched a hand from the railing and dragged it to his pocket, handing it over. There was fumbling and muttering.

"It's turned off. Not dead." He took a labored breath. "Please call." 

"Yeah, yeah. Uh, who do I call?" Thomas let out an exasperated sign as if to sound annoyed, but it was pained and high pitched.

"I don't-" His breath caught and there was a lump in his throat. He took a long shaky breath. "Know." His voice wavered. There was silence and a muffled voice.

"Hi, my friend and I are stuck in an elevator and the call button is broken. I wasn't sure who to call." There was more quiet speaking on the other line. "Yes, okay, thank you. Yes, this number would be fine. Thank you." He hung up.

"What did they say?" As soon as he heard the noise confirming he hung up, he had asked. 

"They said that there would be someone coming to see as soon as possible." Thomas rubbed a hand down his face, he could feel them shaking. His nervous habits were beginning to make a more repetitive appearance. Him running a hand down his face, tapping his foot or bouncing his leg. His fucking shaking hands, God. They were the most common sign of him beginning to panic. They showed up before his anxiety attacks and took forever to go away, nothing else stuck around or appeared as an important warning.


	5. Teacher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stole this idea from someone else on AO3... I'm sorry. But I never finished it! 
> 
> Also, I HATE this one. But it's ham so...

Something was off with Mr. Hamilton. 

Neil could tell from before he walked in. Instead of walking down the hallway and seeing his favorite teacher bouncing from heel to toe outside to door, the door was closed. No smiling and greeting students, just, a closed door. The kids of his class lined up along the lockers and waited until the door finally popper open and a flood of upperclassmen rushed out of the room to go to their next class. 

Neil waited patiently for the students in front of him to file in and when it was his time he went to his desk. He glanced at Mr. Hamilton who stood at his desk, hunched over to type on his laptop. Nothing out of the ordinary there, except that when he stood he faltered when going to the door. He turned again, on his heel, and returned to his laptop. All of his students were in his classroom and he then went to stand in the hallway. 

Neil removed his binder from his backpack and organized his desk. He glanced out the door, had the bell rang yet? Suddenly Mr. Hamilton went across the hallway to the classroom parallel to his own. The bell rang and a minute later he returned. Neil looked back at his things when his friend poked him. He ignored him until he poked him again.

"Neil, what's wrong?" Spencer whispered from behind him. Neil shook his head and turned around to face him.

"Nothing, I'm just tired." But he couldn't help but notice how exhausted Mr. Hamilton looked. Mr. Hamilton started class the usual way he did, explaining what they would do and having small conversations with students along the way. Mr. Hamilton cleared his throat and Neil gripped his pencil when his teacher's voice seemed pinched. He coughed quickly and his voice was back to normal. Neil looked around, no one had noticed. 

"Okay everyone, let's get started! Turn to 74 in your books please!" His face seemed to have its usual pizzaz back and Neil relaxed. "Right! Who wants to read?" He looked around the room and called on the girl who always volunteered. Mr. Hamilton stood at the from of the room looking down at his textbook on the table. Neil saw his fidget with a pen while the the girl read. 

"...was close-knit as trade was necessary to the town's survival." Penelope looked up. 

"Beautiful job Penelope! Next reader?" He looked around. "Anyone? Who doesn't want to learn about Mathew Parish, Explorer extraordinaire?!" Alright, Neil admits, he is a little too observant when it comes to Mr. Hamilton. He wouldn't notice if another one of his teachers changed outfits between him looking up, but he notices everything with Mr. Hamilton. "Okay. Fine, if you want to be like that." He mimicked a stereotypical Californian accent but Neil saw his eyes widen. 

"Right. Commerce in his small village-" 

"We already read that one." The class seemed to say in unison. He looked up and dramatically rolled his eyes.

"Well!" He said sliding his pen down the book to frame the next paragraph. "Right. 'Parish's family was near nonexistent by the time he was twenty-two. His father and mother were torn apart when his father left in a rage one night, leaving Mary to care for her three children alone.'" He flipped the page dramatically making some kids laugh. "'Mathew's younger sister died one year after their father left and left Mathew, 14, Peter, 16, and Mary at 27.'" Mr. Hamilton looked up at his students. "Mathew was younger than you! 'While Mary worked odd jobs to try and support her two children, she and Mathew fell ill. The exact sickness has never been discovered but while the mother and youngest son tried to fight it off, Mary Parish died an early death.'" 

Mr. Hamilton looked around the classroom. 

"Do you want me to continue to read?" Everyone nodded their heads. "Alright. Fine. 'This left Mathew and Peter alone to fend for themselves. They were moved to live with an uncle, but the uncle died only two weeks after moving in.'" Neil watched Mr. Hamilton fiddle with the pen again. "'The two boys moved around until Mathew was 22 and Peter, now dead after he tried to sail away.', Mr. Hamilton's hands were shaking slightly.


	6. Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol remember where I read a bunch of lams? fuck.
> 
> here's this crappy thing. inspired from a fic from WATTPAD. which i also have a part of ffffuck me
> 
> also hate this one

Alexander stood in shock as John sat down at his desk. John's back was rigid but curved, John was shaking with anger and his fists were clenched over the wood. Alex locked his jaw as he felt tears pricking at his eyes. His throat hurt, he could feel the lump growing there. He struggled to take a breath. His inhale was fluttery and shallow. He felt himself shaking. His eyes burned. He couldn't breath. 

He could feel his heart beating, rapid in his chest. His breath caught in his throat. He knew their argument, their fight, had been bad. It wasn't horrible, it wasn't like they would never speak again, but it was their first fight and Alex didn't know why the hell he couldn't handle it. He felt the dread and anguish wash over him. 

Breath, damn it. 

His brain searched for a way to make it better. Should he leave? Should he make up? He felt his tears threaten to spill over. He took another hitching breath. The temperature seemed to go from burning hot to freezing cold in a matter of seconds. His hands felt numb. His hands were shaking. He bit his lip. He needed to say something. He needed help. He needed Eliza, John even to tell him something. God damn it he needed air. 

"John." He forced out. His voice was short and pinched. His chest hurt. The world seemed to tilt.

"Just- Just shut up Alexander." John's voice sounded tired but furious. Alex fought the urge to whimper. He felt like he was going to die. He had no control. He couldn't breath.

"John." He strained out again.

"Shut up Alex." He said through gritted teeth. The lump in his throat grew. Tears, hot on his cheeks. His hands shook, he felt his entire body shaking. Another fluttery breath and a longer wait before he spoke again. 

"John." His voice broke. Alex drew a flurry of shallow breaths as John growled. 

"God dammit Hamilton! I just want some quiet right now!" Alex flinched at his last name and wanted to tell John not to yell. John rubbed his temples at his desk. Alex's breath caught in his throat again. His tears poured down his face. He just stood there shaking by his desk, staring at John's back. He couldn't fucking breath. 

"J-John-" He sobbed out. He hadn't meant to break. It was only one hiccup of dismay.   
"P-Please." This time John turned and stood up, his face pulled in anger. He looked about to burst, to yell at him again but he faltered as he saw Alex. 

Alex was standing there by his desk shivering with tears streaming down his face. He was visibly shaking and absolutely distraught. The lump in his throat grew as John looked at him. Alex struggled for breath. His feelings were taking over. He lost control. He was dying. 

"C-Call 'Liza." Alex stuttered, wrapping his arms around himself. John was motionless. Alex let out another lone sob and stumbled forward, picking his own phone from John's desk and turning away from John. He struggled to find Eliza's contact and pushed call. Eliza picked up on the second ring, he crumpled to the floor on his knees because his legs didn't feel like they could hold him anymore as her cheery voice rang through the phone.

"Hey Alex!" He couldn't breath. He was dying. He was shaking. Tears, hot and fluid.

"H-Help." He forced out. "P-Panic attack. Can't- Can't handle it." Alex clenched his jaw again and barely heard as Eliza hung up. He took another shaky breath. He couldn't breath. His chest hurt. The world was spinning. He heard the door fly open. 

"What the hell John!" Eliza roared. "What the hell did you do to him!" 

"I-I don't know!" John tried to explain.

"Like hell you don't know!" She was a force to be reckoned with when angry.

"I don't know what-"

"Shut up John Laurens!" She yelled.

Eliza ran up and wrapped her arms around Alex. He still couldn't breath. The tears still fell. The world was too loud, too bright. He whimpered as Eliza held him, he didn't care that he knew he would be embarrassed by it. He felt like he was dying. His heart pounded wildly. He couldn't get a breath. There was no air. 

"It's okay darling, take a breath. That's it. Breath for me." Eliza's voice was soft and tender. "Now breath in, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, good. Hold- two, three, four. Out- two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Again. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven eight. Hold: one two three four. Out: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight." She continued to count, alternating between English and French.

Alex felt his heart rate slowly go back to normal and his breathing even out. He calmed enough to wipe his face and sniff. He stayed in Eliza's gentle hold until Eliza rose, bringing him with her. Eliza packed up a nights worth of Alex's things and let him to the hall, telling him that he would spend the night in her apartment. Alex agreed and they walked with Eliza's arm over Alex's shoulders.


	7. Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fff part of that same fic. GUESS I'LL POST THAT TOO

John sat with his feet by Alex's back. They were facing each other but at opposite ends of the couch. John had the television on and was flipping through the channels. Apparently evening television programming was boring and scarce. Alex was typing away as he usually did at a breakneck pace. John groaned and Alex chuckled and shook his head without slowing his speed. The flurried click of keys had not yet faded into the background. John could hear it, he wanted to hear it. He wanted to be reminded of Alexander's presence on the sofa with him. 

John changed the channel again. Boring. He clicked the remote to look through the guide. There was nothing on. Well, nothing that interested him. Earlier there had been a special on Discovery about all types of turtles and John had been glued to the screen for twenty minutes when Alex reminded him about class. When John said he would just skip, Alex threatened to report John to the campus for missing class and not having a good reason. John could tell Alex was not lying and that if he were to tell, he would have no remorse.

It had been partly sunny all day the day before, then the morning had been overcast with the occasional peek of the sun. The rain had started and stopped too many times to count and there was no way to tell when the gloomy weather would end because all of the phones and websites declared that it was only partly cloudy, sunny at times, despite the clouds being ever prominent in the sky. The weather channel wasn't much help either, just showing television shows and programs that at most times John would find entertaining, but he wasn't in the mood. 

It finally started to drizzle only fifteen minutes after they sat down. John felt Alexander tense beside him. As a light tap on the window continued into the background he could feel him slowly melt back to normal. John continued to flip through the channels, ultra aware that Alex stopped typing to fiddle with the strap of his watch. Though when John took a glimpse at him, he seemed only to be conjuring a sentence in his mind and immediately went back to typing. John continued to stare at the screen in front of him. 

A few minutes later the rain began to come down harder, hitting the windows with more force, again Alexander stiffened. John shot another glance at his friend. Alex's face was pale and drawn, his jaw clenched tightly, though he continued to type albeit slower. His emotions flickered between unease and anguish freely on his face until he seemed to steel himself and relax. The internal conflict he was having was apparent. John swallowed, uncertainty and concern bounced around in his head. He adjusted the heavy blanket cascaded over Alex and him from both of their waists and between.

The first rumble of thunder made Alex freeze. His fingers were motionless, hovering above the keys, he stared blankly at his computer screen. His face had gone pale and his jaw locked again. John heard him take a shaky deep breath as his eyes showed glazed emotions: wariness, dread. He rested his hand on Alex's foot next to him, his eyes jerked up. He locked eyes with him, John's face was soft and laced with worry. 

"Are you alright?" John's voice was small and quiet. Alex stared back for a minute before reacting. He gave a reassuring smile that faltered slightly and nodded.

"I'm fine." He stated simply though John heard the slight quiver in his voice. John gave him his best confident smile and patted his foot. Alex's smile melted away to be replaced by tension. John heard him anxiously tapping on the plastic of the computer and cracking his wrist. Nervous habits. John resisting prying to ask him what was really wrong.  
John looked back at the television as rain continued to pour down. He moved the blanket again. He flipped the channels once again and landed on some stupid program about the wildlife of southern Alabama or something. It was rudely interrupted by a bright flash of light and a booming crack of thunder. Alex and John both jumped and John scrambled to catch himself as he fell off the couch. He rushed forward to the television to turn the volume down, he had landed on the remote. He heard something crash to the floor. The thunder continued to rumble deafeningly above with frequent white flashes.

John got up to peer out the window to watch the storm but his eyes grew wide as they landed on Alexander. His laptop had crashed to the floor, the blanket disheveled. Alex's eyes were clamped tightly shut. His one hand gripped the edge of the couch and the other had the blanket coiled in his palm. His face was white and flushed and he was shaking. John cursed and rushed forward, concern etched onto his face as he held his arms in the air waiting. He didn't know whether he should go in to hug him or not. He didn't know what was happening, how he would react. 

"W-What's wrong?!" When Alex didn't respond he leant in and plastered himself around him. He could feel Alexander shivering, he heard him muttering nonsense. "A-Alex?!" John mentally kicked himself for sounding so desperate. He combed through his mind trying to think of what was happening. The thunder sounded again and he tightened his hug as he whimpered. 

"You're gonna be alright." John tried to calm his voice though he felt a knot of worry grow in his stomach. "Everything is fine, it will be alright. Nothing will hurt you. It will be okay." John stayed clasped around Alex, feeling as he trembled at the storm. John tried to keep the lump of worry from reaching his throat, but soon enough he lay there, draped over Alex, choked up. He was worried, he was so worried, what was happening? He didn't know what to do, how to handle it. He didn't know why Alex had suddenly freaked out, what had happened? What was happening?

John continued to simply sit there, offering words of calm as Alex continued to shake and mutter and cry. It broke John's heart to see his best friend like this and he just wanted to know what to do. It took a while for Alex fall into a fitful sleep, but once he did, he looked immediately more at peace. Though, John realized with a lurch, that his face was still scrunched up in fright. 

John slowly retreated from his hold and grabbed the blanket, pulling it over Alex. He reached for his phone and walked towards the closet and bathroom. He opened his phone and shuffled through the contacts. His finger landed on Eliza, he clicked the button to call her. She picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?" Eliza prompted from the other end of the line.

"Hey Eliza, this is John. I was wondering if you could come to our dorm... ASAP?" John hadn't thought about what he was going to ask, only that he needed to talk to someone.

"Yeah, of course, sure.. Why?" Her voice was cautious and calm.

"Uh.. Alex..." John trailed off, searching for words. "He freaked out, I guess. He was like crying and shaking and stuff.." Eliza made a noise of understanding.

"Oh yes, I forgot, oh poor thing." John scrunched his eyebrows together. "I should have come over."

"Forgot? Forgot what?" 

"Oh, I thought you knew. Before you guys became friends, he came to me when he panicked." She said this as though it explained it all. "He has panic attacks when it storms." 

"Panic attacks..." Spoke quietly, more to himself. "But.. But how come... I mean.. I befriended him the fourth day here! We.. We took him to the balloon festival..." John was hurt. Has they not been as good of friends as he thought they were?


	8. College

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ffffuck me
> 
> this is a full transfer of a very undone fic from none other that WATTPAD.

John Laurens looked down from the top bunk of his bunk bed at his roommate who sat typing hurriedly on his laptop. Incessant, constant pattering at the keys never seemed to cease. This had been going on for three days. He examined the smaller boy, he was hunched forward as if laboring over each letter he placed upon the ever expanding document. The only time he stopped typing was to flip the page in his book or to fidget with his hands. John rolled over to face the wall. Sleep had never come easy to him; then also shocked with a new dorm, a new bed, and a new roommate, his prospects were not bright.

To add to his continuing list of discomfort, his dorm was set up awkwardly. Unlike every other dorm in the complex, it had a bunk bed instead of separate singles. When entering from the hall there were two boxed rooms jutting from the corners them immediately a desk on the right followed by the bunks then a love seat that had been strangled in by the previous boarder, pushed up against the other wall. Opposite the couch was a television and right across from John's sleep deprived head was his roommates desk. 

He stared at the wall with wide eyes as the typing continued. He could hear his roommate muttering to himself too, page flipping from the open textbook and circling things in loud pen noises. Quick letters before the fast clicking of the space bar and enter key, clicks of the mouse broke the fluttered fingers symphony. He heard him grumble and John squeezed his eyes shut, running his hands along his tired eyes. Classes hadn't even started yet.

Laurens rolled to face the ceiling as the typing slowed. He closed his eyes, a satisfied grin melting onto his face as he thought of the soon to come silence, only for the smile to disappear as typing returned full speed. He needed to say something. He formulated a request in his head for a moment, the mumbling continued below, the clicking and flipping and circling all magnified by the closeness of the small room. This time the man in the bunk groaned, sitting up fast only to urgently mutter a choice string of words after colliding his forehead with the popcorn ceiling. His roommate turned to stare at him wide eyed, his chair scraped across the floor as he stood.

"A-Are you okay?" He asked anxiously, after a while of silence, trying to figure out what had happened. John glanced down, still massaging his face. He hadn't really gotten a good look at his roommate who was called Alexander Hamilton. He only knew this because he had gotten an email regarding his dorm information before school started, there had been no introductions upon Lauren's late arrival to the room.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He forced out, pushing his blankets off so he could retreat down the ladder. "I think I need some ice though," He tried to keep his staring to a minimum as he maneuvered the tangle of sheets. Alexander was shorter than he was, he had long brown hair that was tied back in a messy ponytail, hairs sticking out as if done hastily. He looked concerned and a little on edge, anxious even. His eyes were brown and dark like his hair, his skin tan. He looked, well, cute.

'Damn. I have a cute crush on the kid who never speaks.'

"Uh," the typing boy faltered, "I'm Alexander," His voice was cautious. John chuckled as he reached the floor then into the mini freezer and refrigerator to get some ice for his throbbing forehead.

"I know, it was on my housing papers." Laurens placed the bag of ice on his face. "I'm John." Alexander rubbed his arm, John sensed the awkward silence and continued. "Um, heh, shouldn't you be getting some sleep?" Alexander glanced back at his laptop, the cursor blinking. He thought a second.

"It's fine, really." He reassured but John was not convinced. John took his hand off his head and crossed his arms.

"I haven't seen you sleep while I've been here. N-Not to be creepy like watching you sleep but, like, crap.. Anyway, that means you must go to bed later than I do and wake up earlier or you are a freak of nature and never sleep." Alexander made a face. "I'm just kinda concerned, ya know?" He returned the ice to his head. "My new mute roommate who never sleeps, just wanted to make sure you get some winks before classes start next Tuesday." Alexander stayed silent for a moment.

'Shit. Did I go too far?'

"I'll.. Okay..let me just finish up..." Alexander slowly moved around to his chair and sat down quietly. John moved around to the couch and sat back, resting the ice on his head. There was silence. John let this new absence of sound wash over him. Even at home there had been endless noise. Now there was finally peace and quiet-

The typing continued.

John groaned. He heard Alexander jump at the sudden noise. He put his hands over his closed eyes.

"Is something wrong?" Typing boy asked, his speed not slowing. John thought of his response. He could confront his roommate about his never ending and excruciating typing or he could spare his feelings in hopes to become friends. He couldn't decide on an answer.

"I'm fine." He mumbled quietly. The typing stopped and the chair moved slightly.

"Huh?" John opened his eyes to find Alexander leaning toward him. John pushed himself up.

"Nothing." John replied. Alexander squirmed a bit and pushed a strand of hair forcefully behind his ear.

"B-but, what did you say?" Alexander rushed, playing with the band of his watch. John shot him a confused glance.

"Uh, I said I was fine." Alex nodded and turned back around in his chair and continued to type at a slower pace but soon picked up his full speed. John continued to sit on the couch internally wishing to be able to drone out the pattering of keys.

John adjusted the ice on his face, the pounding was beginning to die away. But man, he would love to have some pain medicine around. He made a mental note to remember to buy some. He could stock up their bathroom. That's right, their. Along with the dorm having the awkward bunk beds, the blessing of the bathroom and closet was also a downfall because there was only a bathroom and a closet. John walked over to the fridge and returned the ice, the cheap college life. John climbed the ladder and lay on his bed.

He heard Alex grumble as there was an error noise coming from his laptop and then finally snap it shut. He heard him yawn and then his footsteps as he retreated to the bathroom to brush his teeth then, finally lay down in the bunk below. John waited until the movement in the bottom bunk ceased to close his eyes and fall asleep.

Little did he know Alexander was waiting until he heard his breath start to even. Though the thought of sleep was enticing, he wanted to finish writing before his inspiration was gone.  
1214  
6/23/16  
6/24/16  
~~~

 

When John woke up early to the noise of some kid dropping something on the floor above. He jolted to the side, almost making the mistake of the previous night. He slowly peeled off the blankets, flicked on the light from his bunk, and climbed down the ladder to be greeted with Alexander passed out, slumped over his laptop. John grimaced at Alex's position, his shoulder blades jutting out of his back. He slowly slipped the laptop out from under his arms and quickly saved his document, snapping the lid closed.

He slid the laptop to the side and slowly moved his hands to Alex's shoulders. He jumped at the touch and opened his eyes slowly realized what had happened. John hid his smile as he saw the blush creeping down his new roommate's neck. Alex pushed his chair back and winced as he stretched his back.

"So," John began, "How long did you sleep last night?" Alex made a face as he yawned.

"What time is it?" Laurens checked his phone and replied:

"7:20." Hamilton thought for a second.

"Not enough." Alex grumbled when he gave him a look. Typing boy was also apparently less guarded when tired. "Three and a half hours." John held up his hand and counted, having to restart a few times because up of his non-caffeinated brain.

"3:50." Alex offered, yawning again. He stretched his arms out, pushing himself up from the chair before collapsing into his neatly made bed.

"How much of that sleep was in your bed?" John chastised. He groaned, not even opening his eyes.

"Zéro." John recognized the French at once, well the accent; there wasn't much of a difference in the word. He vaguely wondered if he knew more. Alex held up his hand in the shape of an 'O'. "Rien de rien." He made a mental note to ask Lafayette what that meant. 

"Right. Well, do you want anything from the mess hall?" He asked shifting on his shoes and pulling on a sweatshirt. There was only a groan from the bed as he grabbed his phone and student card and left the room. In the mess hall, Lafayette was already sitting with a tray by the window. After he had grabbed a tray and piled it with a few muffins and a piece of fruit he joined his friend.

"Bonjour mon amie," They greeted. "Comment vas-tu?" Their smile was too bright for the earliness of the morning.

"Hey Laf, I'm guessing you asked how I was, so.. Correct me if I'm wrong. Je vais bien?" He offered.

"Très bien!" Lafayette smiled at John who just stared back at them unamused. He unwrapped his muffin.

"Alright you fucking baguette, I know your bilingual you don't have to rub it in." They smirked. "And, it's too early. I stayed up late because roomie was typing away again."

"So, how's your problem with said roommate?" Lafayette asked causing John to laugh.

"You could say he's coming around..." He trailed off. Was he? 'Gosh, I hope so.'

"You sound uncertain." They noted with a smirk.

"Well gee, thanks captain obvious." Lafayette smiled a goofy smile as if to say: 'Well duh, that is me,' John thought for a moment, recalling himself bang his forehead on the ceiling. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment. "It's just.." He took the wrapper off his next muffin, shoving a piece in his mouth.

"Is he cute?"

John choked.

Lafayette threw their head back in laughter as John spluttered. With a final breath he regained himself.

"No, I mean... No. Kind of? I-I guess?" Lafayette continued to laugh as John desperately tried to stutter a response. He barely realized Hercules' arrival.

"What's his problem?" He asked, sticking out his thumb toward John. They laughed again as John glared, Hercules still confused.

"He's got a mignon roommate!" Lafayette cheered which sent Hercules roaring. John buried his head in his hands, shaking his head.

"Do tell freckle face." Hercules leaned forward on his elbows like a teenager ready for gossip.

"Herc don't call me-"

"Oui, spill." They said, also leaning forward, John scooted his chair back and then leaned forward and poking both of them on the nose before picking up his tray.

"I'll talk later." He stood, scooting his chair back in.

"Okay then. Willow Greene. 12. Picnic time." Herc said as John turned on his heel. He gave a thumbs up as he walked away.

Returning to the dorm room he found Alexander still passed out on he bottom bunk. John smiled inwardly as he placed a cup of coffee on Alex's desk. Laurens moved to his own desk and sat down. It was dark in his corner, squished against the walls and between one and the bed. He glanced at Alex, he had a perfect view of his face from where he was sitting, if you put your face all the way next to the wall. Which was something he was willing to do.

'Dang, he's cute. This is unfair.' He thought. 'Please just be my friend, then we can..' He stopped himself before his thoughts went on. 'Make-out and shit.' He cursed mentally.

He sat at his desk for a moment before contemplating what to do before he pulled out his laptop and went to various social medias. While scrolling through the depths of many sites it was hard to keep his laughter quiet. He was silenced whenever his roommate stirred, and as he clicked out of his internet Alexander rolled over with a cross between a groan and a tired moan.

"Mornin' sleepy head." He received a yawn in response. "There's a cuppa coffee on your desk." John smiled as he heard him move for the cup and drink it. He turned to face Alex, who had already turned his computer on. Silence. No, good morning no, oh thanks no, that was thoughtful. Just silence. John squirmed, was the morning just a slip up? Would he ever be comfortable? John forced himself on.

"I was thinking, would you wanna come out to the lawn and have a picnic thing with my friends?" Alexander made a face that John couldn't see and shrugged. "Come on man, I need a response. My friend, Herc, is gonna go get sandwich supplies." That wasn't a complete lie. Hercules was in fact talking about the picnic, the group chat between Laf, Herc, and himself was exploding with information about Alex. The line of texts was mixed with an over usage of emojis, a bit of French he couldn't quite understand, but mostly Herc and Laf talking about how 'their little Johnny boy had a crush'.

The chat had its fair share of input from John, though. He had no filter at first, writing how cute his roommate looked while asleep and how he had to resist to urge to go over and play with his hair and mushy stuff like that. But soon stopped as his friends began to tease. His floodgates of information, however, were tapped open by Lafayette's joyous prying and so he told them more. 

He told them that Alex was cute in general and that he was even cuter "how even is the fucking possible you guys" when sleeping. How even though he typed "endlessly dear lord" that he thought maybe he could get used to it. How he loved his little quirks "damn guys I'm sure his essays are fucking great but he's so awkwrad sometimes????" The followed by "awkward*". Then "you guys should see him he does this thing with his watch when he's nervous and it's sO cute" then questioned: "john I thought you never spoke HWO dO YOU KNOW T HIS" from Herc. Then Laf answered: "he's a spy herc obvi".

"I am not a spy gosh you guys" Was John's response. "He's spoken to me actually once. It's called I pay attntion." Then: "attention* damn" Laf quipped: "mon Dieu you cannot spell" John scowled as Hercules responded: "he's been SPELLBOUND Laf" Then followed were countless heart emojis and heart eye emojis and crying-laughing faces. He glared at his phone screen as he got constant notifications.

He would not live this down.

"Uh, s-sure." He obviously wasn't paying attention. In truth, John had almost forgotten his sandwich related question. As he turned back to his own desk and powered down computer, he sighed in his head as the typing revved up once again. He gave his reply to Hercules and just sat for a minute. The typing wasn't as irritating when he wasn't exhausted. It wasn't a nice background noise, but it wasn't bad either. So he sat back in his chair thinking about how the picnic would go.

He wondered if Alex would be as quiet as he was when he first got here. Sure, he was talking in the morning, but that was because he was groggy. When he was actually awake, (or whatever degree awake he was in the late hours of the night, typing,) he had barely heard him speak. And when he did, it was awkward and forced, there was no easy flow of conversation as there was with Laf and Herc, there was stutters and stops in the flow. John made a face at the wall and sighed mentally. He was silent as was his brain until he thought:

'Please let this work out.'  
1495  
6/23/16  
6/26/16  
~~~

 

At four minutes until 12, John realizing they needed to get going. He swung his legs over the edge of the bunk bed and yelped in response to his phone telling him he had three minutes. Alexander jumped and turned around, he was once again seated at his desk but this time scrawling things down in pen. John jumped from the top bunk to the floor, there had been more space between him and the ground than he had realized and stumbled forward. Alex's arms shot out before he could his his face against the chair. John felt his a blush dance across his cheeks as he stabled himself.

"W-We should go." John said silently cursing for stumbling on his words. Alex slammed his notebook shut and stowed it in a drawer. Alex grabbed his phone and they set off at a rather quick pace to Wren Greene before getting a text from Hercules at 12:10 asking where they were. John made a noise of annoyance and called Hercules.

"What the hell do you mean? Where are you?" John asked into the phone.

"Willow Greene? Outside the dorms?" John was silent. "God Laurens, did you go all to way to Finch?"

"No!" He defended but then added more quietly. "I'm at Wren Greene.. By the library." He heard Herc laugh and then a muffled question and his friend explained his predicament again and he heard Lafayette laugh.

"Well we brought the food. Get your asses over here." And so they did, the two of them raced. Alex was in slightly better shape than John and ran slightly faster but they were both laughing and sputtering when they came upon Lafayette and Hercules. Though after they had caught their breath respectively, Alex became quiet looking at his hands.

"Hey John," Hercules greeted though Lafayette whispered:

"Abracadabra, bitch." Under his breath causing Herc to dissolve into laugher and John to glare. Alex fidgeted with with watch. John smacked Herc's shoe and shot a glance at Alex then pointed at his own wrist. He nodded and continued.

"So you're the magical Alexander we've heard about?" Alex looked back up, fingers still glued to the strap around his wrist.

"Oh, heh, yeah I guess." Alexander looked blatantly uncomfortable. There was a silence. Herc jumped at the chance to speak.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Hercules or Herc, whichever. It doesn't matter." Herc nodded at Laf.

"I've got a long name so just call me Lafayette or Laf, like he said, I don't care." Alex noticed their accent. John couldn't help but stare at his reaction to his best friends.

"Oh, are you around here? I-I mean from around here?" John saw his roommate's face turn red and felt sorry for his mis-hap, however his friends continued as if nothing had happened. Herc passed out sandwiches and they began to eat.

"Non," They said with a smile. "I used to live in France, but I moved here when I was 19."

"Oh, so I guess you know French?" Alex asked as Laf nodded. John cheered mentally as Alex continued the conversation. John noticed as Alex softened with the conversation, though he had made a mistake he seemed to be more comfortable.

"Oui mon ami, je connais le français." They said with an air. Alex smiled.

"Je sais le français aussi." Alex's face grew hot but stayed relaxed. Lafayette smiled brightly and clapped. Mulligan smiled.

"Anyway, who's excited for the balloon festival?" Herc asked excitedly and changing the subject. "I'm so ready." John leaned forward.

"God, what time are we waking up this year." He turned to Alex. "Last time we had to be ready by seven-"

"We're leaving around four." John deadpanned and Alex stifled a laugh. He had a cute laugh.

"Please tell me that you mean at night." Lafayette shook their head and John groaned.

"So, what's this balloon festival?" Alex queried with a smile, he was continuing to relax. He stopped clutching his wrist.

"Ooh! Do you want to come this year?" Lafayette asked with an expression of pure joy. Alex's smile slowly faded. A stiffened posture seeping slowly in as he began to ramble.

"Oh, no, I, I wouldn't want to intrude. It's obviously a tradition with you guys. I wouldn't want to be some weird new addition and besides, it's really early. And like I said, it's obviously a tradition and you probably wouldn't some new guy you didn't know coming along-"

"Tais-toi." He looked up, it was John who had spoke.

"Did you tell me to shut up in French?" Alex asked, taken aback. Offended or provoked, Alex was also un-guarded. Noted.

"Oui!" John said happily. Laf laughed.

"Gosh, do you all speak French?" He asked. Herc grinned.

"No, only Laf and I, Laf is, obviously, fluent, I am getting there, and freckle face-" ("Hey!") "Knows just about nothing."

"Bonjour. Je m'appelle John. Comment-allez vous?" John gave a goofy grin. Herc nodded at him.

"That's just about the extent on his knowledge." Lafayette laughed.

"Anyway, nonsense! You should definitely come!" Hercules circled back. "We get two hotel rooms that are be joined by that door thing and we head the the festival in the morning then go back to the hotel and then back to the festival around noon until, like, ten?" Alex nodded along but John could sense the rigidness in his stance.

"Um, well, I-" Alex began. His throat felt dry.

"It's alright guys, he can come next year! Right man?" John clapped him on the back and Alex let out a breath.

"Y-Yeah, totally." The two across from them looked heartbroken. "I mean, I might come, it depends on my work tonight, but yeah, I'll go next year." Alex couldn't wrap his head around what just happened. It was racing a million miles a minute and he couldn't seem to think straight. John's mind was also milling with thoughts.

For the past four days his roommate sent him nothing but glances and silence until last night when he'd rammed his face against the ceiling. How was he being invited on a long overnight trip, a tradition no less, on his first meeting with this boy's friends? How would he operate? He'd get no sleep, he was the youngest, they were practically strangers. But, he had no friends, this could be a good way to make friends. He couldn't think of an answer.

"Man, guys, 's like, really hot." John said suddenly. He was right, the sun was beating down horrendously. John noticed Lafayette mutter:

"Spellbound." Under his breath and Mulligan force back laughter.

"Alright, time to break?" Hercules asked and everyone nodded in agreement. As Hercules and Lafayette gathered their things Alexander and John rose from the blanket that been thrown down. Alex folded the blanket and handed it to Lafayette.

"It was nice meeting you both," Alex chimed earning happy faces from the two of them.

"Oh! Our pleasure!" John and Alex broke off toward the dorm. John led the way with Alex trailing behind, John was hyper aware of this. John tried to slow down but Alex still stayed behind. John eventually stopped outside the door into the dorms. Alex bumped into him.

"Alright Candlestick, what's your deal?" Alex looked taken aback like he had when John spouted French.

"Did you..did you just call me Candlestick?" He asked in disbelief. His movements were flowy, as if he had spent more time being on alert and could relax in the state. There was no stiffness in his body, he was comfortable being battled. Provoked. Unguarded.

"I sure did, first thing that came into my head." He shrugged as if to say: 'what can you do?' "Alright. What's up?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alex shoved passed him to slide his student card granting him access to the dorms. Touchy now Alexander. Got some pent up anger issues?

"You're being all silent and you aren't walking fast." John said as he followed through the door. "I mean the silence was normal, but now I know you are, in fact, capable of speech. So, what gives?"

"You actually thought I was mute?" Alex asked, his eyebrows raised high. A joking conversation. The tone had shifted already. Maybe he didn't hold grudges. Maybe he was opening up.

"Meh, I thought you might have been when I came in the first night at seven instead of two like everyone else." John was walking backwards down the hall in front of Alex. Alex rolled his eyes. "Oh look, you have the capacity to be sarcastic!" Alex punched his arm. ("Ow!")

"I didn't know what to say, okay?" ("Heh, that rhymed,") "You looked intimidating-" John laughed aloud to this as he shuffled for his key into the dorm room.

"Me? I looked intimidating?" John laughed again.

"You were soaking wet and you looked furious." Alex said as he walked into the room. John smiled inwardly as their conversation continued.

"Well yeah, I was soaking wet. I had a right to be furious." Alex shook his head sitting down into the chair at his desk.

"And then you just came in, out your stuff away and took a shower and went to bed. You didn't say anything!" John scoffed.

"Dude. I was waiting for you. Do you know how awkward I am?" This time Alexander scoffed. 'Opening upp...' A voice whispered in John's mind.

"Have you met me? Besides, tu êtes ouvert." John gave him a look.

"All I got was: 'You' something something."

"You are outgoing." Alex supplied him as John sat on the couch.

"And you are cool so get over it." John moved to the right of the couch and grabbed the remote. "Get your ass over here and let's get to know each other. I don't want to have to share a hotel room with a stranger." But Alex had started his computer. John's hope faltered as Alex had already turned to face his laptop.

"I'll rain check that until the hotel room, alright?" Alex said. "I have to finish writing this thing, but I promise I'll take you up on that." John sighed loudly and sarcastically. He was, though, thankful Alex didn't shrink back on himself.

"Yeah, whatever, just leave me here on the couch to watch television until dinner and then watch television until the morning-" John cursed. "Man! I gotta wake up at like three am!"

"Have to." Alexander mumbled quietly, as if not wanting anyone to hear. John sent him a glance but his eyes were glued to his computer screen. His fingers has stopped fluttering around the keys.

"What?" He saw Alex tense and mentally kicked himself. There was a moment of silence.

"Have to. You said 'gotta' which isn't a word." Alex forced out. John sighed exasperatedly again, to lighten to moment.

"Well fine! I have to wake up at like three!"

"Around three." Alex's voice was more confident this time. John groaned again. 

"Whatever." Alex continued to type.  
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6/30/16  
~~~

 

John woke with a start, nearly rolling off the bed. He flailed trying to turn off his alarm before it woke Alexander. He grabbed the battery operated clock laid on top of the quilt and jammed the snooze button, silencing it's loud and annoying chirp. He laid back in his bed staring at the ceiling.

He pushed the blankets down with his feet slowly revealing his bare legs. He sucked in a breath as the air met his skin and he resisted the urge to pull the covers back on. He moved toward the ladder and cautiously descended.

He saw Alexander sprawled out on his bed. Though this sheets had been pulled up to his neck, his foot dangled off the side of the bed and he clutched the blankets next to his head. The purple stains that were always under his eyes as grown worse in the last few days and he could see them clearly as he slept.

John grabbed his duffle bag as quietly as he could and stuffed his change of clothes in followed by his sketchbook and a bathing suit. To wake himself up he took a shower and when he got out he glanced back at Alexander.

'Should I ask him again?'

He contemplated the idea as he moved his fingers through his hair, trying to get it to lay flat. He grabbed a ponytail holder and pulled his hair into a ponytail bun concoction as he moved toward his sleeping friend. He gingerly moved his hand to Alexander's arm.

"Hey," He said quietly which made Alex stir. "Hey," He called softly again and Alex opened his eyes, squinting through his eyelashes confused.

"What-" He began but John shushed him.

"I'm gonna head out. You can come next year." Alex smiled sleepily and nodded half-heartedly. He muttered something that sounded like an agreement and promptly fell back asleep.

John stood up, still looking at Alexander. He moved towards their closet and pulled out a smaller duffle bag. He filled that with a copy of what he had packed, only it was pulled from not his side of the closet but Alexander's.

He set the bag down as he unplugged his friend's vital laptop but hesitated before putting it in. He slowly replaced it on the desk and reconnected the chords. He set the duffle bag down by the door next to his and moved back towards the bunk beds.

He pulled his phone out standing over Alex's head. He opened his messages to see a flurry of messages from Laf and Herc. Hercules' texts were a few sentences long but full of typos. Lafayette's were a mix of English and French and very short.

'Je suis fatigué'

'Très tired.'

Though John barely understood French but thankfully had enough common sense, (even at the early hour of the morning,) to figure what had been said. John looked down at Alexander, he shoved his phone into his back pocket. He again put his hands on Alex's arm.

He stirred slightly but laid still. John resisted the urge to run his fingers through Alex's hair. He pushed on Alex's arm and he moved again. He made a confused face as he opened his eyes. Alexander's eyes were hooded with exhaustion and John felt a pang of regret. He glanced at the ready duffle bags.

"Hey Alex, uh.. I- we decided you should come." Alex continued to stare. "You have like ten minutes before we need to go.. So get going?" John tried to force humor into his voice to lighten the situation. "It's too cool to miss, man."

"Uh... Um.. O-Okay..." Alex's voice trailed off before a large yawn. He pushed his blankets off as John retreated to sit on the couch. He watched as his tired friend fumbled through his clothes. He moved to text Hercules and Lafayette.

'Hey got him to get ready see u in 10'

John sent the message as he heard Alexander curse under his breath. He grinned as he received happy replies. Alex finally came out from the bathroom fully clothed. He grabbed his watch and began to pull on his socks half-heartedly with another yawn.

The two grabbed their bags and exited the dorm with only one minute to spare. Across Willow Greene and to student parking where Lafayette was waiting by his car, or rather, Herc's car. Laf's was a small sedan while Herc's was larger with a third row like a SUV. Lafayette stood by the drivers side and Herc was by the trunk.

"Glad you two could make it," They said with a laugh causing Herc to look over. Alex grumbled something and handed his bag to Hercules, climbing into the car. John smiled at Laf and then put his bag in the back next to Alex's.

After everyone was loaded into the car and they pulled off of school property, driven by Lafayette, Hercules cheered. Alex was leaning against the window, eyes closed behind Hercules and John was behind Lafayette with Hercules in shotgun.

Alex fell asleep within minutes of leaving and Herc had started to play a game on his phone. To pass the time John pulled out his sketch pad from his duffle bag with difficulty. He looked over at Alexander and paused. He flipped his page.

'Should I?'

He questioned silently. He decided against it and looked out the window. He stifled a yawn and decided to just sketch the inside of the vehicle. Hercules was stitching some elaborate design into a piece of fabric, Lafayette was muttering a song in French and Alex- Alex was asleep. And he looked damn cute.

He went back to sketching. After a while he realized that he had to rub his eyes every minute or so to get them to focus and that they kind of burned but felt better when they were closed at that he was yawning way to much to be normal so he put his stuff down. He followed what Alex had done and leaned against the window but found the vibration and freezing glass unbearable. He grabbed his bag and propped it up between himself and Alex and leaned against it.

He fell asleep.

He woke up feeling something resting atop his head. Before he moved he opened his eyes to see Herc slowly lowering his phone and showing it to Laf who was driving. John slowly realized that Alex must be laying on him, with a yawn and a glance at the clock up front, he closed his eyes again. They still had twenty minutes, and he was exhausted. Why not sleep some more?  
1107  
6/26/16  
7/1/16  
~~~

 

John woke suddenly to Lafayette blaring loud music in French. He and Alex jumped, their heads hitting together, them both recoiling and exclaiming: "Ow!" at the exact same time. Hercules and Lafayette laughed loudly at their misfortune. John rolled his eyes and opened the door only to be slapped in the face by the freezing dawn air. He yelped quietly and turned back to the car. He grabbed his sweatshirt and closed the door to Herc's car.

He fell into step next to Alex, who had his eyes nearly closed. They trekked down the gravel parking lot and past a fence that warned in capital letters: DANGER HIGH VOLTAGE. Then underneath it: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. They got around the fence and began down a hill. Laf and Hercules were deep in conversation. Alex and John were silent. It was all going well until John's hand shot out to grab Alex's as he stepped in a hole. Lafayette and Hercules kept walking, John waited until he knew his roommate was steady.

"Um. You can let go of my hand now." Alex murmured awkwardly, red-faced. John pulled his hand away, sneaking a final glance at his friend's face.

'Damn. Why does he have to be so fudging adorable.'

He thought as they continued walking. Then ended up on a large blacktop that was decorated with seating and empty vendor's carts. Lafayette had on a brown fleece jacket, it looked considerably warmer than Herc's simple long sleeved shirt. John realized, with a tad too much enthusiasm, that he and Alex both had on hoodies. (Of course though, John had his trademark navy one and Alex had a bright green™.)

They stood in the cold and watched a mostly empty field. There was a tarp laid out and numerous trucks around. People had set up chairs and blankets to watch them blow up the first balloons. John shivered in his sweatshirt and made a mental note to bring a heavier coat next year. Laf and a Herc didn't seem to mind the cold, but Alex was also shifting in his spot. John subconsciously moved towards him and they huddled for warmth.

"I swear to the great lord above, if you woke me up this early in the god damn morning for them not to put these balloons up, you will never see them. You will only see the inside of your coffin." Alex grumbled, but John could see the smile playing in his lips. He saw what Alex meant. Though the sky had been clear and without any wind, as the sun rose a thick fog descended along with a swift breeze.

He watched as a man in a bright vest released a small balloon into the air to test the wind currents. It was quickly swept away. The balloon crew proceeded to blow up two balloons. They stood for another half hour in muttered and broken conversation. The fog only got thicker and the wind stronger. After twenty more minutes of trying to inflate the hot air balloon, they gave up and let it fall back onto the tarp. Alex punched John in the shoulder.

"Hey!" He laughed at Alex's icy expression despite there being a hint of a smile on his lips. "What was that for?"

"For waking me up." Alex fought to keep the smile off his face but ultimately failed. Though most people stayed on the blacktop, the four friends walked up the hill to the car. They pulled out of the airport after winding through the parking lots and then onto the he road. After twenty minutes of travel they arrived at the hotel. John heaved his bag from the middle seat while Alex went and grabbed his from the back. Lafayette had gone in to get the room keys while Hercules grabbed both sets of bags.

They entered the lobby to meet Laf. They gave John two room cards and explained what floor they were on and the pool hours and the free breakfast in the mornings and all the general hotel information. After the brief lecture the four of the, piled into the elevator and clicked on the third floor. Laf and Herc walked to and found their room and Alex and John found theirs a door down.

The both of them entered. Immediately to the right was a bathroom and to the left a closet. Then there were two queen beds and a television followed by a small table and a desk. The end of the room had a large window. Alex claimed his bed by the bathroom wall and John proceeded to the one closer to the window. They unpacked their things as there was a knock on the door through to Lafayette and Hercules' room. John opened it and over-enthusiastically welcomed them.

"Welcome, welcome to ma salle!" John spewed his limited French and smiled as Alex joined him.

"Il y a deux lit, un sale de bains, un télévision..." Alex trailed off. John stared, confused.

"English please?"

"John said:' Welcome to my room!' And Alex said:'There are two beds, a bathroom, a television.'" Laf translated. Herc nodded absentmindedly.

"Alright you two. Leave. I'm going back to sleep." Alex said moving towards his bed and flopping down face first. Hercules shrugged and retreated.

"You can go back to sleep after waking up? That's a blessing." John muttered.

"I know. I would but I'm have to to read a book for a class." John nodded as they closed the door. He stood there for a moment before going over to his bed and leaning against the pillows.

"Hey, if I turned on the tv would it bother you?" John asked. He received a non-committal grunt and a thumbs up. He shrugged and picked up the remote. He turned on a cartoon and watched it with a million different things going around his head. All kinds of things... Maybe just kinds of things... Specific things? Okay, mostly just Alex, but it kept his mind whirring.

He pulled out his phone and checked the festival timings. It didn't officially start until noon but there would be tethered balloon rides and informational speakers about aviation at certain parts of the day. There was a special thing for scuba diving on site in a heated pool and a bunch of vendors. You could bungee jump and zip lining and there would be something called a 'balloon glow' where they got ultra thin balloons and when they put the fire up they glowed. There would be fireworks around eleven and then it would be over.

He smiled and though of the day ahead. He returned his eyes to the cartoons and put his phone away.  
1118  
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6/30/16  
7/2/16  
~~~

 

John pulled his swim trunks on and shoved his feet into his flip flops, grabbing his towel. He shuffled past a very quiet Alex who pushed his way into the bathroom. John sat on Alex's bed. He got a text from Herc:

'We'll be down there when you're ready. We'll wait to get in, don't worry.'

John smiled and tossed his phone back onto his bed and waited for Alex to emerge. When the lock on the bathroom clicked he rose from the bed and exited the room with his key in his swimsuit pocket. They walked to the elevator and went to the first floor, John put the key in to unlock the pool room and in a matter of minutes from their room, they were in the humid pool room.

Herc was sitting in a chair while Laf was shifting from foot to foot excitedly next to the stairs leading into the pool. As soon as Laf saw them, though, they urgently got into the water. John deposited his things in a chair and got into the water, followed by Hercules, then stood Alexander. He cautiously got in the water while Laf had already swam from one end to the other. They came up for breath, their hair soaked but still thick.

John made a face thinking about his own hair pulled into a pony tail. Herc was standing in the deep end. John lowered himself to a squat, the water rising to his neck. John watched as Alex took a step and then pushed off the steps with his toes and landed on his stomach in the water. Laf and Herc cheered. Alex dove underwater and resurfaced with a broad smile, however tentative.

"Mes amis! We should race!" Laf shouted.


	9. Parking Garage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More TJeffs and Ham in the claustrophobia universe!

Thomas knew he hated Hamilton, but he didn’t realize that he fucking loathed him. 

He had been sitting in his office, having a chat with his close friend James Madison when he had burst into the room absolutely simmering with rage. Madison had been leaning against his bookshelf, careful of the post-it notes he always had there. Jefferson had been leaning back in his swivel chair, holding a pen and twirling it around. He had thought that the two of them were on better terms after the freaking political conference where he essentially had a breakdown, but he was apparently wrong. So when he came in with fists clenched against his sides and face pinched in anger he was more or less taken aback. 

“What the hell Jefferson?!” Thomas kept his expression neutral, as did James.

“Oh, what are you on about Hamilton?” Hamilton’s expression was most definitely not neutral. 

“What am I- What am I on about?” He was flailing his arms around wildly. “How about the fact that your fucking opinion is unneeded and unimportant and too influential on this matter-” He cut himself off and closed his eyes for a brief second. “You know what? Just come with me.” Jefferson watched as Madison sent him an alarmed glance out the corner of his eyes. 

“Why?” He stayed where he was. He knew what Hamilton was going to do if he did follow through. He was going to try and force him to sit and discuss it in his car or something which Hamilton knew about. He bit the inside of his lip and waited for an explanation. Madison was still leaning against the bookshelf. 

“To discuss this.” He rolled his eyes and told Madison that he’s be right back. Then he begrudgingly followed him, not even surprised as Hamilton led him to the parking garage. He wished he had stayed in his office with Madison. But as he neared Hamilton’s car he felt something opposite to what he should have been feeling. Calm. He was accustomed to cars, he would be fine. 

He got in the car and sat down with Hamilton. Hamilton sat behind the drivers side and Thomas behind the passengers, they were in the back seat because there was more room. Alexander seemed immediately more calm once he was in his car, and he could definitely tell that it wasn’t so much a mode of transportation as it was a place of refuge. The exact opposite was true for Thomas, however, cars were for driving places and only that, not just sitting in the confined space with nothing but the sound of blood rushing in his ears. 

“Jefferson.” Hamilton began with a deep breath, sensing this and knowing the man for speaking in endless paragraphs, Thomas braced himself for the lengthy discussion. “Voting is something only someone with a proper education and standing should be able to do! They should own land and be responsible enough to take care of their families and so forth to be able to choose a new leader for this country we worked so hard for. Which, I may add, is something you have no say in because you were off, dilly-dallying in France.

“Tu parles francias, but guess what, je parle francias et or y yo hablo espanol.” Thomas rolled his eyes. “Voting shouldn’t be for the common people, if they truly wanted a say in their government, they should go get an education like I did so they can. The people who cannot write or read, they shouldn’t vote for their leaders because they don’t truly know what’s best for the whole economy-”

“If I’m not mistaken Hamilton, and I hardly ever am, didn’t you grow up on an island where the population was largely illiterate?” Thomas interjected, he knew exactly what to say to get the short man’s aggressive attention off him and onto the defensive. “Are you insinuating that your father would not be qualified to vote?” 

“My father-” Hamilton’s face grew red in anger and the tension of the subject. 

“But is that what you’re implying?” Thomas grinned, perhaps if he pissed his off enough, he would storm off and get out of the ever-growing-smaller vehicle.

“My father is dead to me and so is that island you speak of.” He obviously struggled to regain his composure. “What you’re saying is that everyone, excluding a comparison of their backgrounds, should be able to vote.” Thomas leaned back and crossed his legs. 

“Yes, because everyone deserves a say. The people should rule themselves. The government should favor individual rights instead of being controlling.” This set Hamilton off again but attempting to steel himself, he glared out the front windshield. “You know, I’d love to stay and chat, but I told Madison that I’d be right up again, so if you don’t mind me-” He swiveled his body to tug on the door handle. He pushed on the door and was taken aback when nothing happened. His heart jumped to his throat as he tried again. It didn’t budge. 

“Hamilton?” He asked, trying to keep the edge off of his voice. Hamilton glanced back and looked at the door.

“Just fucking open the door, Jefferson.” Thomas demonstrated how it wouldn’t open. Hamilton reached up through the gap between the seat and side of the car and clicked the unlock button on the door, nothing happened. Well, the front two door’s locks sprung up, but the back two stayed plunged in the holes. Jefferson desperately tried the door again and when he received the same latched door, he struggled to maintain a hold on his breathing. Hamilton face-palmed.

“The child-lock is on.” Thomas closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. 

“Alexander Hamilton.” He began and opening his eyes. “I swear to fucking-” He cut himself off shooting a glare at Hamilton. “You fucking knew and we had an agreement that you would not do this.” He rubbed a hand down his face and forced his heel to stay glued to the floor instead of starting to spring up and down. 

“I am so sorry, I know-” Hamilton’s demeanor changed completely from anger to sincerity. 

“I’m estimating a maximum of seven minutes before I go insane and a minimum of twelve seconds so please figure this out.” He let out a sigh and balled his fists to rub his eyes again. 

“First, stop.” Thomas glanced over at Hamilton. “I’ve unfortunately been in enough situations with you to realize what you do before you flip: you rub your face, you bob your knee or tap your foot and your hands shake and you try to hide it but you aren’t good at it but I guess there’s nothing you can do about that.” He stared in disbelief at him and when he moved to run a hand up his chin to cover his mouth he stopped.

“Fuck you.” 

“It’s called being perceptive.” He glared. “Right, we, uh, one of us has to climb to the front of the car and get out and then open the door.” Jefferson had his eyes glued on the small patch of sky he could see across the parking garage and it was obvious he wasn’t going to move. So Alexander moved himself to the center console and attempted to squeeze between the space. 

Multiple painful groans and an embarrassingly girly shrieks later, Hamilton was sat in the passengers seat after a grueling five minutes, then opened the door. He got out and stretched a moment until Jefferson rapped on the window and when Alexander opened his door he basically fell out of the car and with laborious breaths stumbled toward the edge of the parking garage. 

“Why the hell does this always happen with you around?” Thomas asked once he was bracing himself against the bearing wall with his stupid shaking hands and Hamilton next to him. “I had ten brothers and sisters you know,” He said absent-mindedly. “None of them ever actually saw me have a panic attack, there were close calls but never.” Hamilton leaned sideways on the wall looking at the side of Thomas’s head as he was still staring outside. “College started and James and a few other people knew and he was there for most of them until that stupid time in debate club and then that elevator after class.”

“Oh, I had forgotten about the elevator after Steuben’s class.” Alexander thought for a moment and Thomas laughed.

“Yeah, I realized when you yelled at me after the whole tunnel incident.” He said sharply. Alexander turned out to look over the barrier with Thomas.

“Yeah, I felt so bad, actually. I didn’t know how to respond.” Thomas put his hands over his face and smiled.

“Again, if I’m not mistaken, didn’t you use to have panic attacks?” Alexander stiffened and hesitated before answering.

“Yeah..” He mumbled and cleared his throat. “um, still do.” Thomas put his hands down and glanced at Alexander. 

“So, you, having experienced panic attacks, and knowing that I am claustrophobic, brought me to a car?” Alexander rubbed the back of his neck. 

“I was angry--” He sighed. “Yes. I am sorry.” Suddenly the elevator across the level dinged and out rushed a flustered Madison. He came over and stood staring at the two of them.

“What is happening?” He questioned. 

“Nothing, we were just finishing our discussion,” Thomas sent a pointed glare at Hamilton. “Weren’t we?”

“Oh, yes. Yes we were.” The two exchanged a look and Madison stared between them, confused. 

“Have I missed something?” He asked, pointing his finger to the both of them. Thomas raised his eyebrows and seemed to think, clapping his hands he said:

“No, I don’t believe so. Let’s get back to our discussion shall we James?” They began to walk away until Hamilton spoke.

“You really are bad at hiding it.” He called. Madison stared at Hamilton with one eyebrow raised but Thomas send a glance down at his hands before giving an uneasy chuckle and clasping them behind his back.

“I believe that deserves a light-hearted ‘fuck you’, Hamilton.” And turned and walked towards the elevator again. Once he Madison and Hamilton were in the elevator James turned to him.

“What was he talking about?” The shorted man whispered, rolling forward to his toes from his heels. Thomas let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“None of your concern.” He stated firmly, pressing his lips into a line. 

“Thomas.” James pressed, slightly louder and Thomas shook his head lightly.

“None of your concern, James.” James crossed his arms then gestured to the long array of buttons on the elevator panel. 

“Thomas, I can stop this elevator, what were you two talking about?” Thomas moved his jaw forward and back while sending a glimpse to Hamilton, who had obviously grown uncomfortable, realizing the situation. A fight between two best friends was not something he wanted to witness. Thomas didn’t speak and this agitated Madison further. “Thomas.” He sent a glare at the ceiling before turning to his friend. James seemed taken aback and Hamilton looked over at him. 

“He was talking about my hands, James. They were shaking because the child lock on the car was on and I almost had a panic attack, okay? The door wouldn’t open. And you know how they get, minutes before and the last ages after and now that I’m talking about it they’re gonna shake for longer and wow this elevator is really fucking small and disgusting and god, look what’s happened now.” Thomas squared to face the front of the elevator and closed his eyes. Madison backed up a step before coming forward with his hands flapping wildly, obviously at a loss for what to do. There was a tense moment of silence before Alexander latched his hands onto James’s shoulders and forced him to back up.

“Give him space.” He said simply before looking at the floor number and clicking the next floor’s button. A few moments later, the elevator dinged and the three of them piled out of the elevator onto the unfamiliar floor. Alexander looked around before leading them down a long wooden corridor. 

“You know, wooden paneling on a small hallway is not really the best thing for someone who’s claustrophobic.” Thomas mumbled, casting a few glances around. James was wrapped around Thomas, almost sheltering him. When he didn’t respond, James spoke.

“Hamilton-”

“Almost there.” He said, quickening his speed walk. James looked around, confused.

“Almost where?” But Hamilton didn’t respond because they were greeted by two wooden double doors and without hesitation, Hamilton pulled one open and lead them into the room. The room was large and while the wooden paneling continued, there were enormous floor to ceiling windows behind a large desk. There were bookcases and a sitting area and it still left Madison and Jefferson confused. 

“Where are we?” Madison asked, still standing around Thomas. 

“This is John Adams new office-”

“Aw hell no.” Thomas turned on his heel but James gripped his arm. 

“Thomas.” James stated calmly and almost immediately he stopped. He stood still for a moment, looking at James out of the corner of his eyes.

“James.” He said in the goofiest voice and face he could. 

“We’re here because Alexander was kind enough to lead us to a place where you can calm down, which it seems, you have.” James glared, seeming quite annoyed. Thomas shook his head, looking at where Alexander stood by Adams’s desk with his arms crossed.

“Now, I knew Adams quite well before he had to go get that promotion…” He trailed off, moseying to his desk. There was an edge of poison in his voice that Hamilton noted. “He should have…” He examined the back of the desk where there were numerous drawers. “If I do remember correctly…” 

“What are you-” Madison began but then suddenly he exclaimed.

“A-ha!” He pulled a bottle of hand sanitizer from one of the drawers on the bottom left-hand side of his desk. He lathered his hands before offering it to the two other men in the room before pushing it closed with his shoe.

“How did you know that?” Hamilton asked as they left the man’s office, Thomas leading and the two other men behind in a triangular shape. Thomas raised his eyebrows. 

“Do you remember those friends that I mentioned while I was talking about college earlier?” He waited at the elevator and Alexander nodded while looking confused until James reached up to press the button.

“Good old Johnny boy was one of them. So, the bastard- excuse me, gentleman, that he is, kept a bottle of hand sanitizer for me in his office.” They got into the elevator. “Left side because he mostly used the right side and bottom drawer because I could close the drawer with my foot.”


End file.
